


Food for Thought

by BrightlyRay



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, brief mention of paraplegia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 13:51:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightlyRay/pseuds/BrightlyRay
Summary: AU. The aftermath of Nappa getting left behind due to his unfortunate accident.





	Food for Thought

 

“He hasn’t been eating.” The metallic singe sizzled as Bulma nonchalantly soldered a wire.

The younger woman crossed her arms. “I’m sure that your comrade trying to murder you would do a number on your psyche.” She chewed her lip. “Has he said anything?”

Bulma slid her goggles to her forehead and leaned back in her chair. “Nothing that’s particularly useful.” She stretched her arms above her head. “Maybe you can talk to him, or at least get him to eat. If he’s anything like Goku, he’d be too weak by now to hurt anyone… Hopefully.”

“Gee thanks. I like the vote of confidence.”

The genius waved her off. “I just don’t want him dying in my lab; do with it what you will.” She slid her goggles back down her face. Before her friend left, she called out. “Roman, please be careful. Imagine he’s a wild animal and keep your distance.”

She winked. “Got it boss.” 

                                                                                                ***

Roman did not feel any confidence when she showed up with a giant tray of Bunny Brief’s cooking. She knocked on the thick ki-resistant glass door. Her eyebrows knitted in thought. It was like he was in a clear cage, being watched while he was reeling inside. It was adding insult to injury.

She opened the door even though he didn’t acknowledge her.

 The environment startled her. It was even more sterile and cold than any hospital she had been in. She couldn’t help but feel that this was torture.

“I brought you food. I heard you haven’t been eating and thought you might be hungry.” There was a snort as she set the food down on the bedside table. Roman sat in the acrylic chair next to him. Her eyes searched him, but he refused to look at her. His body language screamed ‘get away’, but she refused to give in to fear.

Her dark eyes lowered, trying her best not to stare. “Nappa, why haven’t you been eating?” There was another derisive snort. Straightening her back, she tried to assert herself. “I can’t fix what’s bothering you if you don’t tell me.”

“You’re joking right?” The first words he spoke to her since the incident when the Saiyans showed up were filled with venom. “I am here because of you. This is your fault.”

Those words hit her harder than she expected. Roman knew what he was talking about and it created mixed feelings in her gut. “I was doing what I thought was right.”

“What you thought was right?” Nappa shook his head, but the words came out through gritted teeth. “What was right was to let me die with honor on the battlefield. You had no right to take that away!”

The outburst made her jump back, but served as fuel to the fire. “What good is honor if you’re dead? I’m sorry I didn’t take your feelings into consideration when I pushed you out of the way of that blast!”

“My legs are worthless. You found it worth saving someone that would be useless, you stupid woman!”

“I’m stupid? You’re the one throwing a fit like a child, General.”

She didn’t see it coming and couldn’t avoid it. Her blouse was soaked with broth that Mrs. Brief’s had made for their accidental patient. The skin on the back of her neck felt hot. Roman was sure that a vein might be popping out of the neck with how hard her jaw was clenched. She knelt wordlessly and picked up what she could and placed it on the bent tray.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance.” His voice was cold.

She stood back up. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Roman pushed her wet curtain of hair away from her face. “I’ll come back when you’re in a more civilized mood.” If the skirt she had been wearing was looser, she would have sprinted out of there, but she settled for a brisk walk. Her face was hidden as she turned her back. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her frustrated tears threatening to spill out onto her cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a series of drabbles I've been working on surrounding these two. It may or may not be in chronological order.


End file.
